Page 34 of Sweet Deal
“We should probably change.” Rachel’s voice caught slightly.
“Of course.” Jim nodded. “I’ll just…” he gestured vaguely toward the bathroom, grabbing his pajama pants and t-shirt from where he’d left them folded on a chair earlier.
In the bathroom, Jim changed quickly, splashing cold water on his face and staring at himself in the mirror. Married. He was married—sort of. The weight of the gold band on his own finger felt surprisingly right. Taking a deep breath, with no clue what the next year was going to bring, he gave himself a short nod in the mirror and opened the door.
Rachel stood by the open door to the larger walk-in closet. “You didn’t unpack?”
“Actually,” he inched closer, “I took the bathroom closet.”
Her smile bloomed and something in his chest shifted. Nothing seemed as important as seeing her happy.
Jim shrugged, trying to appear casual. “The walk-in made more sense for you.”
Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, perhaps, or gratitude. “Thank you.”
The silence that followed was charged with a different kind of tension than before.
“I’d better change.” She grabbed a pile of clothing from the bed and hurried into the bathroom. A moment later she appeared in a pair of pink sweatpants with a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt with moons and stars in sparkles. Nothing had ever looked better.
“Well.” Sucking in a deep breath, Jim gestured toward the bed. “Should we…”
“Right.” Rachel nodded, hanging her dress and closing the closet door. “Which side do you prefer?”
“I usually sleep on the left, but with these ribs…” he touched his side gingerly, “maybe the right would be better for now.”
“Perfect. I always sleep on the left anyway.”
They approached the bed from opposite sides, each pulling back the covers and carefully removing the rose petals. Jim caught Rachel’s eye as she scooped up a handful, and they both broke into laughter.
“My mother,” Rachel giggled.
“At least there’s no heart made out of towels,” Jim countered, making her laugh harder.
The shared moment eased the awkwardness as they slid under the covers, each staying carefully on their respective sides. Jim reached over and turned off the lamp on his nightstand, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains.
They lay there, not touching, both staring up at the ceiling.
“This is weird, isn’t it?” Rachel finally whispered into the darkness.
“A little,” Jim admitted, turning his head to look at her profile. “But not in a bad way.”
She turned to face him, her features softened by shadows. “No?”
“No,” he said with quiet conviction. “Just… new.”
Another silence fell, more comfortable this time.
“Jim?” Rachel’s voice was barely audible.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for today. For making it feel…” she paused, searching for the right word, “real.”
No way could he tell her that for him everything was becoming very real. “My pleasure, Mrs. Henderson.” His thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.
“Goodnight, Mr. Sweet.” He felt rather than saw her smile in the darkness.
Jim chuckled. “That’s not how it works.”
